


The Captain's Journey

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-17
Updated: 2011-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-16 04:46:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8087842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: In the aftermath of the Cogenitor incident, Captain Archer takes his own personal journey in order to help his friend. This is a friendship story - no slash!





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Disclaimer: I own absolutely, positivity, nothing. CBS does. So I’m not making any money out of it, I’m just taking my favourite people for a spin around the universe...
> 
> AN: This was originally workshopped at The Delphic Expanse last year, so it's been a long time in the making. So, a very BIG thank you to the ladies who participated and to Tish and Allee for betaring this story for me. I had finished then had some afterthoughts and ended up changing it (sorry, Tish).
> 
> Rated 'R' for language in chapter 2.
> 
> This story has spoilers for Cogenitor and is set before the opening scene of Bounty.
> 
>  
> 
> * * *

â€œComputer, begin recording.â€

I stare out at the universe, trying to organise my thoughts as I struggle for answers. I take a deep breath.

â€œTo look at him, you wouldnâ€™t know. 

You wouldnâ€™t know that he is a man lost, a man adrift, a man damaged. 

He doesnâ€™t know that I know, doesnâ€™t know that I can see. 

He wanders around the ship, a smile always plastered on his face, a listening ear, a helping hand - always at the ready. 

No, you wouldnâ€™t know to look at him that he is a man broken. 

A man I fear that one day I will lose.â€

I falter as the impact of my words forces its way to my throat. â€œComputer, pause recording.â€ 

I turn and look at a picture on the shelf above my bed. 

Our friendship had always been strong, but one misstep has put that in jeopardy now. 

I inhale deeply again and turn back to the stars. â€œComputer, resume recording.â€

â€œTomorrow a science team will be heading down to an â€˜Mâ€™ class planet that we discovered two days ago. While they study the local fauna and flora, Iâ€™ve arranged for the two of us to spend the night on a mountain not far from the base camp, just me and him together, alone. My hope is that I can help him find his way back.â€

As I gaze at the multi-colored planet a whirl of emotions and thoughts clash through my heart and mind. I only hope that I can accomplish what I have set myself out to achieve. 

I look down when I feel movement at my feet and smile sadly. â€œComputer, end personal log.â€ 

I crouch and rub Porthos gently behind his ears. â€œDonâ€™t worry, Porthos, Iâ€™ll fix Trip,â€ I promise quietly as I gather my pooch into my arms.

I stand and stare out to the stars one more time. â€œI promise. Iâ€™ll fix him...â€


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please refer to the prologue for disclaimer and information.

  
Author's notes: Please refer to the prologue for disclaimer and information.  


* * *

I watch from a distance as he carefully dons his backpack. 

On the outside Trip looks fine, in control even, but too much has happened in the past few weeks that I know better. I know that if I were to touch that surface, that fine veneer, Trip would shatter just as easily as the outer shell of an egg would. 

I shift my attention from Trip to the vista that lays ahead, the turquoise colored sky, the tall emerald grass, the multi-colored trees, and think back to the promise I made to Porthos the previous night, a promise that I made to myself - to fix Trip. 

I turn my attention back to my friend and wonder how. â€œTrip, you ready?â€ I call adjusting my own backpack.

Trip flashes me his trademark smile. â€œYes, Sir, rip, roaring and rearing to go,â€ he replies eagerly and sets out at a brisk pace.

I laugh quietly as I follow quickly behind.

We trek for two hours over relatively even terrain, the whole time bantering back and forth. 

I am avoiding the very subject that I know I need to address. I just havenâ€™t found the right opportunity. At least thatâ€™s what I tell myself. Truth be known, I donâ€™t want to break the easiness of our camaraderie. _Thereâ€™ll be time for talking later,_ I convince myself. _Maybe when we reach the top._

We are still bantering as we approach the base of the mountain. I shuck my backpack and lay it heavily on the ground when we come to a stop at its base. As I stretch my back I take in the size of the edifice. 

From my angle, it appears massive but I know looks can be deceiving. I reach for my canteen, and as I take a swig of cool water I peer over at Trip. _Yes, looks can be deceiving._

As I replace my bottle I turn to Trip to ask if heâ€™s ready to continue, but stop when I see something flash behind his eyes. I canâ€™t be sure but I think its distress. â€œTrip, you okay?â€ I ask. 

I start to worry when he doesnâ€™t reply so I try again. â€œTrip?â€ I call louder. When he finally turns, the look I saw is gone, in its place is his usual open and friendly face.

Trip smiles. â€œSorry, Captâ€™n, did you say something?â€

I frown. â€œI was asking if you were alright?â€

Trip bobs his head a few times as if keeping in rhythm with a tune that only he hears. â€œIâ€™m good, Captâ€™n,â€ he answers bringing his hands together. He stares at the mountain. â€œOkay then, are we ready to conquer this beast?â€

I scrutinize Trip for a moment and contemplate if the time to talk is now, but I decide against it because I need more time to think. 

â€œYep, letâ€™s get a move on,â€ I answer hoisting my backpack, and start out ahead of Trip.

We climb at a steady rate, both of us concentrating on our footing and the rock wall before us. We donâ€™t speak much, preferring instead to conserve our energy, but my mind is busy plotting the best way to approach Trip.

I know on some level that I am partly to blame for my friendâ€™s present emotional state. I have spent every night since the incident replaying my role in it all, the way I landed all the blame on Trip's lap â€“ even though I know that I am no saint. Not seeing, or maybe not willing to see, I had cast the first stone.

I force my attention on my climb as I remember the arguments that I had with myself since that fateful day. I start where I always begin. Why was I so angry at him? 

At the time I thought it was because Trip hadnâ€™t acted responsibly. _What did I say to him?_

> _â€œIt's time you learned to weigh the possible repercussions of your actions. You've always been impulsive. Maybe this will teach you a lesson...â€_

But do I weigh the repercussions? Iâ€™m just as impulsive as Trip. Have I learned my lesson?

I know as captain itâ€™s my responsibility to ensure that all of my crew follow my example when dealing with alien species and cultures. So as captain I had been right to reprimand Trip for his reckless behavior. 

But why was I so angry at him? Trip and I have had our fair share of arguments in the past, but I have never been that angry at him. Could it be because I found myself lacking? Or could it have been that I trusted Trip and I felt he let me down? Or could I have let myself be influenced by Tâ€™Pol? 

When I had arrived back on Enterprise Tâ€™Pol had been waiting for me. She had immediately put forth her argument about non-interference and how the incident could harm our positive contact with the Vissians. 

By the time I got to my ready room and faced Trip I was so angry that I didnâ€™t even give him a chance to explain before I ripped into him. 

I reach up to a handhold above my head and I pull myself higher. _But you had your own doubts, remember?_

The uneasiness I felt when I talked with the captain of the Vissian ship, the engineer and his wife, returns. The way they had referred to the Cogenitor as some sort of thing rather than a sentient being had never sat well with me. _Then why did you let her go?_

I can only put that down to Tâ€™Pol again. After I left the meeting she had told me that I was making the right decision by returning the Cogenitor back to her people. _But were they her people?_ I ask myself as I place my foot in a cavity and push myself higher. 

The memory of the fugitives fleeing from the Klingons suddenly storms in. I gave them sanctuary. _But that was different,_ I tell myself, because they were in immediate danger and asked for help. 

My heart skips a beat when the truth starts to settle in. The Cogenitor was in danger and had asked for help. But I couldnâ€™t have known that it was at risk at the time. 

I nearly lose my precarious grip on the rock face when the confronting reality of the truth nails itself into my conscience, driving it deep. God... Neither did Trip... _Shit, shit, shit, shit, I sent her to her death..._

I feel the sweat trickle down my back as I close my eyes and steady myself because for the first time I, Captain Jonathan Archer, have received a taste of what my friend has endured these past few weeks. 

I can only manage shallow breaths as I try hard to push aside my complicity in the death of the Cogenitor, but my conscience isnâ€™t finished with me yet.

> _â€œYou're damn right you are. And it's not just her. There's a child who won't be conceived because of this...â€_

_Good one, Jon! Add more guilt on the poor manâ€™s shoulder, and while youâ€™re at it, rub some of that salt into the wound just for good measure!_

I shake my head to clear away the sweat that has trickled into my eyes. I accused him of taking a second life! How could I when I had already told him that he was responsible for the Cogenitorâ€™s suicide?

But can anyone really be held accountable for another taking their own life? I knew on some level how Trip would react to the charges. Then why did I feel the need to add to his pain?

I want to scream as truth rams home. _How can I, as captain, blame Trip for something that he had no control over?_ No, I have been appallingly wrong. 

I try to drag myself out of my recriminations, but one last finger of blame points straight at me, one which cuts the deepest.

> _â€œDismissed...â€_

God! That look in Tripâ€™s eyes before I turned my back on him...

And that persistent hammering slammed harder, nailing home the guilt. I truly have let Trip down. Dammit! I should never have turned my back. I should have gone to him, talked to him, told him I was sorry. I should have realised my own faults earlier. 

But I was too god-dammed angry to see things clearly. _And youâ€™re meant to be the captain._

I struggle to gulp in oxygen as my colossal failures stare me straight in the face. I struggle to keep my eyes fixed on the rocky edifice in front of me as I wonder just how blind and stupid I can really be?

Fixing Trip wasnâ€™t going to be so easy after all... 

â€œGOD DAMN IT!â€

Tripâ€™s angry voice makes its way to my ears. 

I look down and my eyes widen in panic. Trip has fallen and is now lying flat on his back on an outcropping a few meters below. â€œTrip?â€ I call frantically. I donâ€™t wait for an answer as I quickly, but carefully, descend. 

â€œDamn mountains,â€ Trip grumbles as I land near my fallen friend. 

I place a hand on his shoulder. â€œTrip, you okay?â€ I ask anxiously as I kneel beside him. A knot forms in my chest when Trip pulls away and casts me a look that I canâ€™t interpret.

â€œIâ€™m fine,â€ he grounds out through gritted teeth. 

As I wait in silence for Trip to catch his breath, I check him over to ensure there are no major injuries. As far as I can tell, Trip has suffered only minor scratches, possibly some bruising. My eyes land back on my friendâ€™s face. 

Once again I try to place a hand on Tripâ€™s shoulder and feel relief when he doesnâ€™t pull away this time. â€œYou sure youâ€™re okay?â€

Trip meets my eyes and nods. â€œYeah, Iâ€™m sure,â€ he replies less irritated. He wipes the dirt and grit off his hands then pushes himself off the ground. â€œJust give me a minute to catch my breath,â€ he says bending over to draw in some more oxygen.

I keep my attention on him as I rub his back with small circles. My chest tightens more in concern when I feel how taut Tripâ€™s muscles are. Like a solid brick wall. 

I take Tripâ€™s canteen out of his backpack and hold it in front of him. â€œHere,â€ I offer.

Trip stands straighter. â€œThanks,â€ he croaks before taking a thirsty gulp.

I take out my own canteen and, as I take a cooling sip, I study Trip out of the corner of my eye. 

Something niggles at the back of my mind, something I canâ€™t quite place. When my attention is finally drawn back to my friend, I feel that knot tighten in the centre of my chest. Tripâ€™s eyes hold a dark, defeated, look. 

I frown and place a hand on Tripâ€™s elbow. â€œTrip...â€

â€œGuess I wasnâ€™t watching where I was going,â€ he says before I can get any further.

I try to keep my gaze level with his, but he turns away, effectively shutting me out. 

I sigh inwardly as I replace my canteen in my backpack. â€œI guess not,â€ I mutter in defeat. 

As we scale the rest of the mountain in silence, I try desperately to come up with a way to get Trip to open up to me. I feel incredibly inadequate when I find myself lacking. Come on, Jon! Youâ€™re a Starfleet Captain! Surely you can come up with something. I shake my head in frustration and force my concentration back on climbing.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please refer to the prologue for disclaimer and information

  
Author's notes: Please refer to the prologue for disclaimer and information  


* * *

It was late morning before we near the apex. 

I look up and I am relieved to see that the end is near. â€œI think I need to spend a bit more time working out in the gym,â€ I breathlessly call down to Trip.

I hear a deep chuckle in reply. â€œYeah, you and me both,â€ Trip grunts.

I smile as I scale the last few feet. 

I stretch a hand over the lip and, with one last effort, drag myself over the top. I donâ€™t stop to relax, though I am desperate to rest my aching arms. Instead I turn to check on Trip, whose head is just rising over the edge, wearily scaling the last few inches. 

â€œHere, let me help,â€ I offer reaching out my hand. At Tripâ€™s nod, I grab under his arm and pull my friend to safety.

â€œThanks,â€ Trip pants when he is standing on firmer ground.

I keep my grip firm, unwilling to let go, when I feel Trip tremble under my touch. It is then that I notice just how tired and pale he looks. 

Trip stares at my hand then at me. He smiles uneasily. â€œYou can let go now, Iâ€™m not gonna fall,â€ he tells me.

I stand in silence as I search his face, and for the first time I am confronted with the damage the young man has suffered. Even though he tries to hide it, all of Tripâ€™s pain, all of his despair, is living right there in his eyes for me to see. 

â€œIâ€™m not so sure,â€ I reply, quietly.

Trip looks away. â€œI donâ€™t know whatchya mean,â€ he replies offhandedly.

_Bullshit you donâ€™t._ Itâ€™s now or never, I decide and take a deep breath. â€œTrip, I know the last few...â€

Trip holds up his hand. â€œI know what youâ€™re gonna say, Captain, but letâ€™s just leave it, Okay? Iâ€™m fine, itâ€™s all good,â€ he says turning. â€œI think itâ€™s time for coffee and some food.â€ He walks away, removing his backpack as he does, comprehensively cutting off any further discussion. â€œThen we should pitch our tents and explore this place.â€ 

Disappointment settles in my gut as I watch Tripâ€™s retreating back, his mask once more truly back in place. I drop my head. I feel at a loss and I donâ€™t know what to do. How do I reach my friend? But I remember my promise. I straighten my shoulders. _Iâ€™ll do whatever I have to do to get Trip to open up to me before the midnight hour._

* * *

Night is falling by the time we return from our exploring. We down our backpacks and collapse on the ground, pleasantly exhausted from our six hour journey. 

I smile as I stare at the darkening sky. The time we spent exploring was filled with incredible sights and sounds. As we had set out, the turquoise colored sky, dotted with grey clouds in the distance, provided the perfect backdrop to the mountain range. Majestic trees reached to the heavens, flowing waterfalls snaked their way through the expanse of the valley below, and the sounds of the wildlife echoed through the air, which smelled crisp and clean. 

Better yet, for me, Trip had relaxed. He hadnâ€™t shown any signs of stress, and was more like himself than I had seen for weeks. We had laughed our way through the afternoon, enjoying each otherâ€™s company as we explored every nook and cranny we could find. 

I inhale a cleansing breath at the memory, and ease my tired muscles. For a while I had wondered if Trip was indeed telling the truth, that he really was okay, and had contemplated that maybe I should leave sleeping dogs lie. 

Feeling sufficiently recovered, I sit up to check on Trip. My heart sinks. Trip still lies flat on his back, he eyes stare vacantly at the sky above. His jaw clenches and unclenches. I resist the urge to place a hand on his shoulder and ask if he is okay. I know what the answer will be.

After what seems like a damnable silence, Trip finally stirs. â€œI think itâ€™s time for us to build a campfire before it gets too dark,â€ he says getting to his feet. He looks down at me. â€œMaybe we can toast some marshmallows later?â€ he adds with a wink.

I raise my head and smile cheerlessly. â€œYeah, sounds like a plan,â€ I reply as I rise wearily to my feet.

Silence fills the air as I stare into the flames of the fire. We finished our meal hours ago, and now Trip is totally absorbed in his task of toasting his marshmallows. 

â€œHere ya go,â€ he says as he offers me a taste. 

I shake my head. Toasted marshmallows were never my thing. Besides, I have more important issues on my mind.

Trip shrugs. â€œYour loss,â€ he says and proceeds to scoff it down. 

I smile despite my internal conflict as I debate if itâ€™s the right time to approach the unwanted subject. Silence settles between us again as I study my friend. 

Light reflects off his face as Trip turns his attention back to the campfire and stares unseeing into the flames. I can only imagine whatâ€™s running through his mind, but I remember my promise, to fix Trip before the midnight hour. Well that time is fast approaching.

Something flashes out of the corner of my eye and I look into the distance. I raise an eyebrow in surprise when I realise itâ€™s lightning. Taking a closer look I can just make out dark clouds on the horizon. Obviously a storm is approaching, was very close and heading in our direction. 

I wonder how long we have to take shelter before it hits. _Not long, apparently,_ I think when I hear the sound of thunder rumble close by.

â€œLooks like weâ€™re in for a storm,â€ I tell Trip keeping my eyes fixed on the building menace. I turn my attention to Trip when he doesnâ€™t answer. â€œTrip?â€ I try again.

â€œYeah,â€ he replies absently.

â€œI said it looks like weâ€™re in for a storm,â€ I repeat.

Trip finally lifts his head. â€œSo it seems,â€ he says vacantly as a bolt of lightning flashes, illuminating his tense features.

I try to ignore the flatness in his voice. â€œI think we should look for more secure shelter,â€ I tell him.

Trip shrugs his shoulders. â€œYouâ€™re probably right.â€

His indifference alarms me, and despite the warning of the approaching storm, I make a decision. Now is the time. 

â€œTrip, I think we need to talk,â€ I say as I eye the clouds drifting closer, backlit by another flash of lightning. 

â€œâ€™bout what?â€ Trip asks keeping his eyes averted.

I feel a spark of frustration when Trip refuses to look at me. â€œAbout what happened,â€ I push as thunder follows the lightning. 

A gust of cool wind catches Tripâ€™s hair. â€œOh, that!â€ Trip finally turns and shoots a fiery gaze at me. â€œWhat if I donâ€™t want to?â€

I feel that knot tighten. â€œI think you should,â€ I encourage him then shiver as the air gets decidedly colder. 

Another bolt of lightning brightens the night sky, illuminating Tripâ€™s face, revealing piercing blue eyes boring into mine. 

â€œWhy now? Why do you want to talk about it now? Itâ€™s been weeks and you havenâ€™t shown any interest.â€ He turns his head away as thunder echoes and the first drops of rain fall.

A gust of wind blows into my face and I smell the moisture in the air, as the rain starts to fall. I know we should be taking cover, but Iâ€™m not going to stop now. Iâ€™m not going to give up on my friend - not yet, not ever. â€œTrip, please, talk to me!â€ I plead.

Trip slowly turns his attention back to me as another bolt of lightning flashes. He shakes his head. â€œI didnâ€™t think you wanted to have anything to do with me, let alone to talk to me.â€ 

I feel an electric charge itch at my skin, but Iâ€™m not sure if itâ€™s from static that the storm is producing, or if itâ€™s from the lack of feeling in Tripâ€™s voice. 

â€œWhat makes you think that?â€ I ask.

Trip cocks his head to the side as if listening to the echo of thunder thatâ€™s rumbling overhead. â€œYou turned your back, Captain,â€ he shrugs and turns away again. â€œWhat else was I meant to believe?â€

I hate the apathy coming from Trip, and I find myself at a loss as to what I have to do to just get the young man to open up. 

I feel the stinging drops of rain beating on my face as I reach out a hand and lay it on his arm. â€œTrip, I know...â€

I donâ€™t get the chance to finish as he violently wretches my grip from his arm and flies off the ground so fast it makes my head spin. And the storm that is Trip Tucker, my friend, rages down as thunder roars and the heavens open, kicking the dust up around us.

â€œI SAID I DONâ€™T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT...â€ he screams, his voice reigns supreme over the storm that is blazing.

My heart jackhammers against my chest as I stand slowly, my attention completely fixated on Trip as he bends at the waist and draws in labored breaths.

I reach out a hand slowly. â€œTrip...â€

â€œJust... donâ€™t talk to me...â€ he growls keeping his head down. 

I take a step back when Trip rounds on me. And through the rain that trails down his face, I see the anger burning. â€œYouâ€™re a hypocrite, you know that, Captain?â€ he spits. â€œI know I shouldnâ€™t have interfered, but since when are you such an angel?â€

I can feel Tripâ€™s heated breath on my face, and almost wither under his fury. There is a part of me that wants to run - to take shelter from the tempest that is Commander Tucker, but the friend in me needs to weather the storm. 

I take a faltering step away. â€œI know Iâ€™ve made my share of mistakes,â€ I say calmly, â€œbut this isnâ€™t about me.â€

Tripâ€™s fiery eyes burn into mine. â€œNO! Then whoâ€™s it about, huh?â€ he hisses. â€œWhat did you say to me?â€

My body trembles, and itâ€™s not just from the rain that is permeating my body, but from the fear that is taking hold. Iâ€™ve never seen Trip this angry before. Nonetheless, I keep my gaze steady with his and remain quiet as he continues.

â€œYou told me that I needed to learn to weigh the repercussions of my actions. Does the Suliban ring any bells? Thereâ€™s impulsive for ya...â€ Tripâ€™s nostrils flare. He is in full explosive mode now, and there is no stopping him. 

He steps an inch closer. â€œHOW DARE YOU POINT THE FINGER AT ME,â€ he screams into my face, pushing me in the chest with his open hands.

I stumble back but regain my balance quickly. Suddenly my own anger rises and I take a determined step forward. â€œWhat do you want me to say, Trip? That Iâ€™m sorry? I am, okay! Iâ€™m sorry! Itâ€™s just that I was angry at...â€ 

â€œAngry! Angry â€˜bout what?â€ he roars, once again drowning out the thunder. â€œWas it that I managed to screw up so badly, you lost your opportunity to gain a new friend? Or was it about me causing the death of innocent beings?â€ Trip clenches his fists, and I can see his body is shaking.

â€œDo you want to take a swing at me, huh?â€ I yell taking in Tripâ€™s balled up hands. â€œBecause if thatâ€™s what you need to do, then do it. If thatâ€™s what itâ€™s going to take to help you, then go ahead, hit me!â€ 

I take another step closer. â€œI screwed up, okay! I know that.â€ I continue yelling matching Tripâ€™s voice by drowning out the storm that is raging around us.

â€œWho says that I even want your help?â€ Trip hisses. His chest heaves, and it looks to me as if Trip is seriously considering my offer. 

As the rain beats down, the lightning continues to blaze, and the thunder roars around us, we stand toe to toe, eye to eye, two angry souls, clashing with the rampant storm. 

After a deadly silence, I calm my breathing. â€œLook, I know I let you down. I should never have turned my back on you. I should have never left you to deal with this on your own.â€ 

I bow my head for a moment before looking back up into heated eyes. â€œI should never have blamed you for the Cogenitorâ€™s death. Nobody can be held responsible for another making that decision to take their own life. I was wrong.â€ 

I battle to keep my emotions under lock and key, but I find it a useless endeavor as I watch Trip struggle to regain his equilibrium. 

Trip finally breaks the standoff by taking a step back. â€œHer name was Charles, and she wanted to climb mountains.â€ 

Iâ€™m only just managing to hear Trip over the thunder that is reverberating around us. Then a memory, a curse, a look â€“ comes roaring into my memory. All of a sudden it makes awful sense. 

â€œDid you deliberately let go, Trip?â€ I can barely force the words out as I study my friend, waiting for an answer.

Trip stares at me, but remains silent. 

I bridge the gap between us and grab his arms. â€œWhen we were climbing, did you let go, or was it really an accident when you fell?â€ I demand, shaking him in a desperate need for my suspicions not to be true. 

Trip averts his gaze and shrugs. â€œLet me put it this way,â€ he says keeping his eyes downcast before turning his attention back to me. â€œIf I had fallen all the way down...â€

I feel a chill run up my spine and stare in disbelief at the look Trip is giving me, itâ€™s the same expression I wasnâ€™t able pin point when he fell, but itâ€™s one I now fully understand - disappointment. 

I let Trip break my grip and watch, crushed to my very soul, as he takes another step back.

Betrayal and loss sets deeply on his face as he continues to back away. â€œYou had me believing that I had betrayed you, that I was no longer worthy of your friendship, of your time. Christ, Jon, you wouldnâ€™t even look me in the eye.â€ 

I canâ€™t reply, Iâ€™m too stunned in the knowledge of the hand that I have played with the damage Iâ€™ve caused my friend. 

â€œFuck, what have I done?â€ I gasp as I look down at my shaking hands, hoping to find an answer. When none comes, I look back at Trip.

The pouring rain, that has plastered his hair to his face, also masks the tears that I know are trailing their way down his cheeks, because the rain is masking my own. 

I open my mouth to speak, but I canâ€™t find the words. Trip breaks the silence.

â€œYou know, every night Iâ€™d go to my quarters and Iâ€™d find myself standing in front of my mirror, wondering who it was that was staring back at me.â€ He backs away from me. â€œAnd Iâ€™d see a murderer.â€

I take a step forward. â€œNo...â€

â€œThen Iâ€™d see a person who was alone, who didnâ€™t deserve loyalty or friendship,â€ Trip continues as if he hasnâ€™t heard me. His eyes cloud over as he takes another small step backwards. â€œI have a knife that I keep hidden near the sink,â€ he says, then looks down, concentrating on his hands. 

My heart stops...

â€œIâ€™d stare at it, run my fingers over its sharp edges, and wonder...â€ He left the rest unsaid.

But I know what the rest would have been. Bile rises to my throat. â€œWhat stopped you?â€

Tripâ€™s eyes soften for just a moment. â€œYou did.â€

I feel as if someone has punched me in the chest with a fist. â€œMe?â€

â€œYeah, you!â€ Trip says, running his hands through his rain soaked hair. â€œI wouldnâ€™t put you through that guilt, even if we arenâ€™t friends any more. No one deserves to go through that.â€ 

Trip looks at his hands again. â€œBut Iâ€™d stare at that knife, thinking how I let you down, how I let Charles down. I struggled with how I could fix everything, get everything back to normal, and when I realised I couldnâ€™t...â€ His voice trails off and he looks into my eyes. â€œDo you know how many times I picked up that blade, and wondered if using it would fix everything?â€

I shake my head, unable to speak, as I watch on his face, the battle that has been raging for weeks.

â€œEvery damned day,â€ he cries, then raises his hands to his head and falls to his knees. â€œEvery god damned FUCKING day.â€ 

I feel a lump in my throat impede my breathing as I quickly follow Trip to his knees. â€œFuck, what have I done,â€ I ask again as I stare at my young friendâ€™s tormented face. â€œTrip, I...â€

â€œEvery damned day...â€ he moans.

My heart shatters as I watch my friend fold in on himself, wrapping his arms tightly around his body, and weep. 

I lean in. â€œIâ€™m sorry,â€ I whisper as I gather this broken man into my arms. I rest his head on my shoulder. â€œGod, Iâ€™m so sorry.â€ 

I hold my friend tight, rocking him gently, as his body trembles.

And as weeks of torment pour out from Trip, I havenâ€™t noticed that the rain has started to ease, and the storm is passing.


	4. Epilogue

I stand, staring blankly out the window, and wonder how we got here. 

_There's been an attack on Earth..._

As the words thunder in my ears, I swallow hard against the acid that is rising in my throat. 

_What do you mean, attack..._

I stare at my reflection. My face is pale and taut.

_There may have been a million casualties..._

I look down at my shaking hands. 

_My baby sister..._

â€œOh, God,â€ I groan and run my fingers through his hair. 

_I can't wait to get in there, Captain..._

My chest tightens. 

_Find the people who did this..._

I fight to draw oxygen into my aching lungs. 

_Tell me we won't be tiptoeing around..._

I start to pace as frustration and fear battle for supremacy. 

_We'll do what we have to do, Trip. Whatever it takes..._

I stop my pacing and stare at my reflection once more. 

I sway on my feet as uncertainty overwhelms me. 

â€œIâ€™m an explorer, not a warrior,â€ I plead to the universe. 

A sound catches my attention. I turn and look at Porthos. â€œWeâ€™re on a quest for revenge,â€ I tell my friend as I bend to pick him up. I close my eyes and bury my head in Porthosâ€™ soft fur. â€œTo strike back,â€ I whisper.

I lift my head. â€œI donâ€™t know if I can be the warrior that they want me to be,â€ I tell my reflection. 

I place Porthos on the ground, but remain bent, hands on my knees, as the enormity of my task hits home. â€œWhat if I fail?â€

My face flushes with heat as I try to gather deep breaths. _I donâ€™t know if I can do this on my own._

I shake my head in despair. â€œWho, who do I turn too?â€ 

I straighten and start pacing again. â€œI donâ€™t want to be a burden to anyone.â€ 

I stop and stare at a picture. â€œEspecially Trip, heâ€™s still healing, I want to protect him, but I donâ€™t know how.â€ 

I straighten my shoulders as I come to a decision. 

_I donâ€™t have the option,_ I resolve, and I allow the uncertainty and fear to wash off my back. 

Steel sets in my heart. â€œNo, Iâ€™ll have to do this on my own...â€

* * *

Trip sat at his desk, gazing numbly at the picture he held in his hand. â€œComputer, begin recording.â€ 

He ran his fingers over the face he knew so well. â€œI know I hurt with the loss of my sister, rage probably describes it best.â€ 

Trip replaced the picture on the shelf. â€œWeâ€™ll get them back, Elizabeth,â€ he promised. 

He picked up another. â€œBut I have Jon.â€ He stared at his friend with a heavy heart. â€œHeâ€™s always worn his heart on his sleeve, though this time heâ€™s hiding it well. But I can see it in his eyes: his pain, his anger, his fear, his insatiable thirst for revenge.â€

Trip carefully placed the picture next to that of his sister. â€œI know heâ€™s struggling, I know he thinks heâ€™s not capable of doing what needs to be done. But Iâ€™ll be there; weâ€™ll do this together. Because he didnâ€™t abandon me, he never let me go, held me till the pain passed.â€ 

He stood and looked at both pictures and reflected about the two people who meant the most in his life, one dead; one alive. 

He took a fortifying breath before leaving to join the one person who needed him right now. â€œHe wonâ€™t have to do this alone.â€ 

Trip stopped when he reached the door and took a last look around his quarters. He turned off the lights as he left. â€œComputer, end personal log...â€


End file.
